


Home

by alderaanian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Sharing a Bed, thinkin' about the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderaanian/pseuds/alderaanian
Summary: They spent a lot of their nights together like this, just talking until one of them finally let sleep overcome them. They talked about the weather, the canteen, the reoccurring saga of the broken 'fresher, Snap's complete inability to sing, the time General Organa caught Poe lose that bet with the rest of Black Squadron. And some nights would turn soft, so quiet and tender that if either of them spoke above a whisper, the fragility of their space would shatter. Their space would never shatter though, they assured themselves; there was too much good when they spoke like this. There was so much good when they were together.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> lol i haven't written a fic in lord knows how long but i missed my flight home, got stuck in a hotel, and said "why not." i hope y'all enjoy this! i've been thinkin' a lot about these boys lately, and to be honest, it's starting to get to me. If you enjoyed this, wanna chat, and look at some silly star wars content follow me on tumblr @ poesfin !

"When this war's over, we're going to get a house," Poe says, barely above a whisper. "One that'll make this place look even worse than Jakku."

Finn groans and lets a laugh escape his lips, gently pushing him on the shoulder. "Now that's a stretch, Poe. I don't think anywhere could be worse than Jakku." He doesn't mean to say 'Jakku' with such a negative infliction of his voice and a genuine grimace on his lips but it happens, naturally, as he recalls the expanse of desert he once trudged through. He swears there's still sand under his fingernails from the journey; Poe calls him crazy but also doesn't doubt him one bit. 

Poe grins, his smile bright enough to light the dark room. "Okay, you have a pretty damn good point." He leans in, knocking their foreheads together. His eyes are so piercing yet so kind, and to Finn, they contain galaxies. "But imagine it; a house to ourselves. I sound like a lovestruck teen but c'mon, haven't you ever contemplated the wonders of a fully operational and private kitchen? Imagine just how much food we could make." His voice grows slightly louder in excitement yet the way Poe speaks makes the conversation seem private, as if he didn't even want the walls to listen. It was so intimate, so sweet and joyful that he couldn't help but take Poe's hand in his own.

"Okay now you're talkin'."

They spent a lot of their nights together like this, just talking until one of them finally let sleep overcome them. They talked about the weather, the canteen, the reoccurring saga of the broken 'fresher, Snap's complete inability to sing, the time General Organa caught Poe lose that bet with the rest of Black Squadron. And some nights would turn soft, so quiet and tender that if either of them spoke above a whisper, the fragility of their space would shatter. Their space would never shatter though, they assured themselves; there was too much good when they spoke like this. There was so much good when they were together.

"I think I'd start by making you some food from back home. Oh Force, Finn, you'd love it so much. I know you think the canteen's pretty alright but one bite of my mother's special steak sauce would be more than enough to rewire your palate instantly." His smile somehow grows as he reminisces on his old home, on the food and the people and the atmosphere who shaped him into who he is in the present. Finn knows that all of the food Poe describes must taste like the universe if he loves it so much. Finn knows that once Poe loves something, it must be really special.

"And I'd try my best to not burn the kitchen down," he says, stifling back a laugh as he imagines the two trying to cook. "I don't doubt that you were a chef in another life. But me, oh force, I don't think the same can be said."

Poe squeezes his hand, a reassuring smile spreading across his lips. "I wouldn't say that. We've cooked together a few times and nothing crazy has happened except for-"

"The pancake incident."

"Okay, you also have a pretty damn good point," he says, his laugh growing in vibrancy. “That was pretty bad. I’m surprised the general didn’t wring our necks, yours specifically, for what you did to the stove.” The man can’t help but laugh alongside the pilot; it’s contagious. Finn wants to kiss him silly when he gets like this; his joy radiates from that laugh, and the sound is greater than any other sound in the galaxy. It warms him, it comforts him, and the best part is that Poe’s laugh is his to love the most.

He can't help it when he sneaks a kiss to Poe's lips, his smile almost as wide as the other man's. Finn swears up and down that Poe's smile is infectious, deadly even, and Poe can't help but bashfully shake his head and swat at his shoulders playfully.

Poe squeezes his hand a little harder. "Imagine how great it would be to have a 'fresher that doesn't constantly require maintenance."

"If that damn shower head falls on me one more time I might actually have to call Rey in here to fuck it up real good with the Force. Maybe even Master Luke. I don't know, Poe, I'm so sick of it." He laughs and shakes his head. "I want to shower in peace, goddammit!"

They're at it again, resorting to laughter that fills their bunk and bounces off the concrete walls. Finn can't ever remember laughing this much with someone, not even Slip or Rey. This is all Poe's doing, and he's not even mad about it.

"And you know what would be even better than the universe's best 'fresher?"

"What?" 

"A bed actually designed for two people."

Poe has a miraculous point; it doesn't ever hit him how desperately they need a bigger bed until nights roll by when they genuinely need the space. Nights like this are different; they're close-quartered and intimate, like the ultimate secret needing to be kept. But nights, especially after long days of training in the sun, or nights where the two can barely keep their clothes on, prove to be difficult. Someone's arm always ends up hurting. Someone almost always falls off the bed at one point, and sure, it's really funny on occasion but when it happens every single time the two get handsy, it gets quite annoying. But the worst, by far, is when the base swelters in the summer months. There is a solution, and that's to somehow snag a spare bed from requisitions but there were two overwhelmingly immense problems; a spare desk was added in place of the old bed and neither of them want to sacrifice being able to share a bed with one another. 

Finn closes his eyes, trying to fathom a bed larger than this. He's always slept on a small bed; hell, the beds in the First Order were somehow smaller than his and Poe's (much to Poe's disbelief). He tries to conceptualize the plushest mattress he can think of, with pillows made of clouds stolen straight from Bespin. His back hurts a little less when he imagines laying back on it after a long day. "I like the sound of that."

"We could get a real comforter. And a real mattress and real pillows and soft sheets."

"I don't know, Poe, you're starting to sound real crazy with your desires."

"Oh, that's not even all of it." He smirks, leaning in closer. Finn braces himself, expecting Poe to say something outright lewd. But instead, he hears "we could match our covers to whatever décor we decide on."

Finn stifles a laugh and shoves Poe again. "You know, for once I was actually kind of excited for whatever filthy thing that was about to come out of your mouth, but instead you ruin it with interior design."

"What can I say?" He shrugs, a pleased smile on his face. "I enjoy nice things, especially a nice house." This gets Finn thinking.

"What was your home like growing up?" His voice grows quiet again, his laughter quietly ceasing and his curiosity taking hold of him. 

Poe closes his eyes and smiles, leaning his forehead against Finn's again. "It was near the old Rebel Base, y'know the one. I know for a fact I've told you about it hundreds of times."

“And I never get tired of hearing about it," he says, leaning in to brush his lips against Poe's.

His smile grows even softer. "The base itself was in the forest, and naturally so was my house. Finn, if you could see the land, you'd know just how special it was to live in such a place. Everything felt so fresh, so calm, so isolated but in the perfect kind of way. We had gardens, and even a Force tree from Luke Skywalker himself right outside our house. I know that sounds crazy but it’s true; I played on it all the time when I was younger." He seems to reminisce for a moment, gazing off into space as he collects his memories. "And it was always humid, no matter what time of year it was. I never minded, though. Some days, I'd stay inside helping my mother cook and some days I'd go exploring. If it was too hot to sit around, I'd swim. When the weather was nice, I'd visit my parent's friends. That's how I got to know General Organa, but you know that by now too."

Finn smiles, recounting the times Poe's proudly told him all of the times the General made an appearance in his childhood. It never ceases to make his heart swell. 

"Our house wasn't too big either; it was just big enough for the three of us and the occasional dinner guest. We had a small kitchen, filled with spices and fresh foods that I would help my parents cook with. My parents had a room with a nice bed and a window where they kept plants on the sill. I used to name them, y'know. And my room was perfect for a boy like me; it had a decent sized bed and all of the shelf space needed to collect knick-knacks and flight manuals. But I don't know. It doesn't sound like too much in comparison to a lot of homes I've seen, but it felt like home. It was home." His eyes close, his smile gentle and sleepy, reminiscent upon his past; Finn loves seeing him like this, hearing about his past and his family and everything that makes Poe smile. Everything that makes Poe himself.

Finn kisses him again, softer, taking his time to melt into Poe's grasp. Gently, the pilot releases Finn's hand and moves his own up to Finn's cheek, slowly drawing circles with his thumb. Finn slightly parts from him, his lips still brushing against Poe's. "I don't want a big house."  
"I don't either, buddy."

"I don't need anything too lavish. I don’t want anything too lavish."

Poe nods in agreement, stealing another kiss from him. His thumb seems to move slower, and his other hand gently presses against Finn's chest. "I don't either."

Finn opens his eyes, his gaze focused on Poe's. By now, he's grown sleepy. It's late, and the two had been out training in the sun, leaving him feeling hazy and warm. "I just want wherever we live to feel like home."

Poe's eyes open and focus on him; the world around them seems to stop again. "Finn, I already am home when I'm with you."


End file.
